Awakened Redemption: Broken Pact
by Boxapples
Summary: Sequel to Crimson Foxhound's Awakened Redemption. While Gray awakens in AR, the Awakened Being Sora is being brutally treated in another place. She eventually flees her captor, but to what end?
1. Imprisonment

**A/N:** Warning for gore, excessive violence, torture &... well, just plain sadism. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Claymore. But I do own Sora. Crimson Foxhound and I share ownership of Elvira.

**A/N 2:** _Broken Pact_ is the one-shot sequel to _Awakened Redemption_, the fic by Crimson Foxhound and starring Gray, his OC. It's also the interquel between AR and our upcoming collaboration,_ Awakened Redemption II: Pride against Fidelity_.

_It's waiting, always trying_

_I feel the hands of fate, they're suffocating_

_Tell me what's the reason, is it all inside my head?_

_Can't take it no more!_

_-----_Final Destination, Within Temptation

**#01: Imprisonment**

_Dark._

It was the only word that came to mind when she opened her sore eyes. Pitch-black darkness. Sora tried to move – and regretted it immediately. Tiny stabs of pain coursed through her awakened body, and her hair felt dirty and matted in what was probably blood. She could, at the very least, still feel her limbs. That was something. She closed her eyes wearily. Time seemed to freeze within this shadowy realm; she wondered how many days had passed since Elvira had captured her. Perhaps thirty, or forty days? And she was so exhausted. She needed to escape. She hadn't awakened to simply die at the hands of some sadistic woman -

_Clunk._

Her eyes snapped open. Fear stabbed at her heart. The darkness rendered her pride and joy – her sight - compeletely useless. Sometimes she thought she saw... _things_ in the shadows, flitting about. Other times she saw familiar lives, people who hurt her with words. Still other times she was comforted by a short-lived embrace with her parents, the only ones who'd ever loved her. In this abyss, nothing was impossible. Sora had no doubt of it.

_Clunk. Clunk._

Her heart began to race. She wondered what she'd see in the shadows again. Would it be a vision of hope, or one of torment? Elvira's features were a blur in her mind; she couldn't recall a clear picture of the Awakened Being. Too long... she hadn't seen her for too long. But Elvira had mocked her, had tricked her. Her mind – it was being fooled, day in and day out. Even now she thought she could hear sounds: footsteps resounding across the stone floor.

_Illusions. All tricks of the mind._ They happened everyday, more frequently as time passed. The footsteps lasted forever. They weren't real. But sometimes they were. Sora wondered if her senses had failed while she was held captive here, in a place where she was blind. Perhaps her eyesight had already failed, and her ears were going. But if anything, her sense of touch seemed heightened, perhaps because the others were maimed.

She hated Elvira.

No, hate wasn't a strong enough word. She _loathed_ her; _detested_ her. She wanted to wrap her red, clawed hands around that skinny little neck and squeeze until the last of the insect-like beast's life left her. But of course, with one arm pinned to the wall by means of several jagged spears and her legs crushed, even the ability to kill – or die – was denied to her.

Her right arm throbbed painfully. She'd counted the number of spears. Five of them. One through the palm, the other at the wrist, another in between elbow and wrist, one at the elbow, the next in between elbow and arm, and the last one driven through the shoulder. These five Elvira had left in her body, keeping her fastened to the wall. And to close off all possible escape routes, the sadistic woman had taken both her clawed legs in that massive pincer of hers, and crushed them through and through. Sora had blacked out shortly after, but not before Elvira finished ripping her butterfly-shaped wings to shreds. Now they dangled, several strips of flesh held together by mere tendons. Those actions had been done in the first few days, or nights – she had no sense of time anymore – and had ensured her captivity. Even now, her Yoki worked desperately to regenerate the wounds. She wondered how long she could keep up.

The clunking faded. Sora closed her eyes again, now hearing her name – and status - instead. It was being called by so many different people: mother, father, friend, Elvira, Lindy, even Garnet...

"Well, it looks like you're finally awake. I thought I'd overdone it."

Her eyes opened again. They stung and watered. She could see nothing, of course. Even if Elvira led her to a brightly-lit room, Sora doubted she would be able to see: this woman had slashed her eyes, and from the pain, they were still regenerating. Her throat felt raw and dry – it would, after the particularly agonizing treatment Elvira had subjected it to when she'd last been aware. Have you ever tried pushing barbed wire down your throat and then quickly pulling it out? Elvira had adopted the idea, using her whip instead of wire. It _hurt _like hell, and worst of all, she couldn't scream because her larynx was nearly destroyed.

_I hate you._

"Still can't talk, I see? Your regeneration seems to be slowing as the days pass."

_I hate you._

"Oh well, it's no matter, sweetie. I have plans for you today, though you slept a little longer than I would have liked."

The sound of metal scraping against stone reverberated across the room. Sora's spine tingled with fear. _Not again._ The darkness made it impossble to predict when Elvira would send the first blow – it came shortly after she drew a breath. Metal pierced flesh with ease. Her body arched in pain, straining against the burning injuries on her arm. Despite her best attempts at biting her bleeding lip Sora still groaned. Her half-recovered vocal chords burned at the strain. It looked like today was another of those pincushion days. Elvira was using spears again. Spears were the best, Elvira had said, because their tip was shaped like an arrowhead. It easily went in, but pulling it out was much harder since it would tear through the flesh upon exit. The knowledge didn't make the agony any easier to bear, however.

Elvira filled her torso with spears first, and proceeded to bully her crushed legs. By this point Sora had tossed self-control to the wind and was screaming – or would be screaming, if her voice box was working. It was not, though, and the action strained her wounded throat, adding to her woes. Warm blood streamed down her body, forming an oddly therapeutic rhythm that she clung hysterically to. _Drip-drip. Drip-drip. Drip-drip._

Elvira's cold fingers lifted her chin. "You're evil, you know that? Killing a Claymore when she could have gone back..."

_Why must you harp on that?_

Drip-drip.

"I've always lost to you. Now I'm stronger. Let's see how you win!"

_I didn't __**ask**__ to win._

Drip-drip.

Brutally, Elvira yanked the spears out of her body, making sure to give them a sadistic twist before freeing them of her abdomen. By the time she was done, Sora's body was little more than a shapeless mass of dangling flesh. But she was _alive_, if only barely. Elvira made certain of that. For her to die would be the worst failure, the worst loss.

"K..."

"What? Did you say something?" Elvira said softly, her tone sarcastic and cold.

"Kill me," Sora rasped, feeling her Yoki spike to unbearable levels in a desperate attempt to keep her alive. Her head ached fiercely from the Yoki rise, blurring the distinction between dreams and reality.

"Then it wouldn't be fun anymore, would it?" she responded cheerfully, proceeding to yank out the spears in her arm. This hurt much more than the ones in her torso: the spears had been left there for days on end, and the wounds had closed tightly around the weapons. She made another soundless scream as she hit the ground. Pain exploded through her mangled legs, robbing her of breath.

"Well, you're free! Go on, run like a little mouse!" Elvira cooed.

_This... game again._

"Run, run!"

_I could choose not to move._

Elvira stepped on her crushed feet, eliciting another strangled cry. _But that would mean more._ She started forward, crawling blindly across the stone mortar. The rough surface scraped across her numerous wounds, but she gritted her teeth in despair and continued. _Maybe this time I'll escape._ The thought had come to her every time they played this damned 'game'. Each time she'd failed. But she couldn't help retaining the hope that one day, she'd succeed. No matter that the chance got slimmer with every passing hour. No matter that she might die trying.

Each time they did this, there was hope.

Even if that hope was fleeting, it was still hope. And as long as Elvira didn't take that, Sora knew she could survive. But for how long?


	2. Hope

**Disclaimer:** Claymore isn't mine. Sora is, though.

_It's in your eyes, what's on your mind_

_I see the truth that you've buried inside._

_It's in your eyes, what's on your mind_

_There is no mercy, just anger I find, I find._

----A Dangerous Mind, Within Temptation

**#02: Hope**

The day's gruelling torture was finally over, and Elvira dragged her to another room. She tossed her in and grumbled, "you did poorly today. I'm disappointed in you."

_I don't __**need**__ your approval._

"Well, no food today, then, as punishment!" Elvira sang. Sora hadn't been fed at all, since she was captured. She felt _so_ starved and exhausted. Elvira adjusted one of Sora's legs so that it hung over a small hole, and pushed a stone rod through, effectively chaining her there. The rod was a perfect fit in the gap, and Sora guessed it was originally there, but it had been removed for Elvira's sadistic satisfaction. The agony of having a mangled leg impaled and flattened was, of course, ineffable, but Sora had long given up on expression. Instead, she gritted her teeth and waited until the resounding clang of the shutting door reverberated across the darkness. Then she closed her eyes wearily. By day, Elvira taunted her. By night, voices and illusions carried her work on. There was no respite for her, and worst of all, she didn't understand why.

They had been the best of friends, as humans. Always competing with each other, yes, but also inseparable. They had a bond only sisters boasted of, and they shared their victories with the other. And after so many years together, they made a pact. A promise to never forsake or betray the other; a vow that they sealed by slashing their palms and letting the blood mingle. Then an Awakened Being struck their town, and both found themselves as Claymores. Sora once led a team to fight an Awakened Being: when one of her team members nearly reached her limit, the single-digit warrior had strode up to her and cleanly decapitated the woman. Elvira had screamed that she could still be saved, but Sora did not think so. They'd fought, then, but Sora had come out as victor. How would she have guessed that a mere event like this could've turned her best friend so firmly against her?

It was Garnet who had forced Sora's hand, forced her to awaken in order to survive.

But it was Elvira who found her thereafter, and tried to break her will.

Her body she'd broken, but her mind – perhaps not. Or perhaps yes. Sora smiled a lopsided grin to herself. _Seeing things, hearing things… is that not insanity in itself?_

She was sure she'd slipped into some kind of broken, disturbed sleep, when a pair of warm hands was touching her, prodding her. Sora groaned, twisting away from its touch and regretting it instantly again. Pain ran up and down her spine, and she sighed wearily.

"Listen, the door's unlocked."

_Who are you? _She couldn't quite place the voice. It seemed to tread the fine line between a feminine and a masculine voice. Nonetheless, she was certain it wasn't Elvira's.

"Once you pass through the door frame, turn left and keep going. You'll come to a window. It's big enough for you to fit through. This place is on a cliff, and if you don't try to fly it'll be quite a long fall. Elvira's out for an errand. It's your only chance for freedom – if you survive the fall."

When the stranger was greeted with silence, she made to leave. Sora could hear her footsteps… and then a pause.

"70 days. That's how long you've been prisoner." Silence. "There's a whole new world out there, you know. Don't let her keep you from it." There was no clang, meaning that the door had been left ajar. Sora lay where she was, pondering the stranger's words. _70 days?_ It felt like eternity. Though that was a truly long time. _But I can't move._ She twisted behind, feeling for the stone rod that pinned her down and finding it. Sora tested the pillar. It was incredibly heavy for a severely weakened Awakened, and Sora had to keep herself from screaming as it kneaded her destroyed leg.

_Only chance…_

Sora gritted her teeth. She couldn't lose to Elvira. This was one fight that she had to win, because her life was at stake. Who the stranger was didn't matter – now she only had to fight herself. Her hands gripped the pillar firmly, and she concentrated on sending a burst of Yoki to her arms. Drawing a deep breath, she grabbed the pillar and hoisted it upwards, while dragging her leg out from underneath it. On the first try, her feet moved a little, and the pillar slammed back down, crushing whatever regeneration had occurred. It took Sora several attempts – and several stabs of burning agony – to free her feet. But the throbbing proved too much, and swiftly took away her consciousness.


	3. Break Free

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Claymore; I don't own the concept of ABs. But Sora's personality, I own. And Elvira.

_All this time, I can't believe I couldn't see_  
_Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me_  
_I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems_  
_Got to open my eyes to everything_

_Without thought, without voice, without a soul_  
_Don't let me die here_  
_There must be something more_  
_Bring me to life_

----Bring Me To Life, Evanescence

**#03: Break Free**

She awoke much later. Or perhaps she'd only been out for a few hours. Whatever it was, Sora quickly remembered what she had intended to do. Painfully, she dragged her battered self across the floor, relying on the wall to guide her. It took everything she had not to sink into an abyss of self-pity and weeping. She made it to the door frame before her body exploded in pain. Writhing on the ground, Sora wondered why she was even fighting to survive.

There was a realm between reality and dreams. It was called the subconscious realm; the plane that those claiming to be mystics supposedly entered to speak with the dead. As Sora drifted in that space between consciousness and unconsciousness, a wisp of smoke made itself known to her. And then it swiftly materialized, taking the form of her Claymore self.

_It's you again._ Sora sighed. Lately she had been seeing herself as a silver-eyed witch more and more often. Sometimes she played with it. Other times, she poured out her bitterness to it. It never responded to her, though, and they'd never properly conversed. But she still treated that Claymore as a friend; this, despite the fact that she knew it was merely a figment of her imagination, a by-product of her insanity.

"Giving up already?"

Sora jolted. _Aren't you supposed to be dumb?_

"Me? Dumb? No, I was trying to talk to you all the time, you idiot. You were the one tuning me out."

_What in the twin goddesses' name are you talking about?_

"Doesn't matter," the warrior said dismissively, "you're _this_ close to freedom. Don't you dare give up now."

_Give me a reason why I shouldn't just suppress my Yoki and watch myself die._

"Because there's a whole new world out there," the Claymore replied softly, "and there are others… others you must meet. You don't want to die here all alone and unrecognized, do you?"

_At this point, it doesn't really matter. If I run, she'll come after me. I'll be living on borrowed time, and no one can help me on that._

"You'll meet others. And then you'll realize that you're not the only one who has a past that's always doggedly hunting you down."

_I… __**what?**_

"Trust is a touchy issue to breach with you, no less after Elvira's betrayal. But tell me, do you know what this is?" Quietly, the Claymore drew her sword, pointing its tip at Sora's face. For some reason, she could see the blade as clearly as though her eyes weren't wounded. Her gaze travelled up the sword to the symbol etched just above its hilt.

_This means nothing to me._ A lie.

The warrior knew it. "Nothing at all? What did you swear to Elvira when you first wielded it?"

_Don't speak that woman's name!_ Sora thought, her white-hot fury exploding. But she knew what it meant. _I swore I would never trust a Claymore. Or an Awakened. I would trust only her._

"And now that she's betrayed that trust?"

_I… don't know. Does that mean it's voided?_

"It is. Go out there. In that big, whole world… there are others you can trust, others you can count upon, who won't betray you like she did."

Elvira had left her at the hands of a powerful Awakened, in the hopes that she would die, violating the conditions of both their childhood pact and the promise made as Claymores. Sora remembered that encounter only too well. It made her doubtful of the Claymore's words. _And how do I know this?_

The Claymore smiled. "I am you. You are me. And if I know this… why wouldn't you?"

_What in the world? _She was being lectured by this figment of her imagination? _Conversing_ with it? Sora had to laugh. Surely her insanity was complete with this. The tip of the sword pierced her neck, but she didn't feel the pain. Sora stared at the human reflection of herself, the smile dying from her lips.

"You – _we_ – awakened to survive, even though we hated Awakened Beings. Why wouldn't we do this now, in the name of survival?"

Sora closed her eyes faintly. _That's right. I gave up my humanity in exchange for life… I was too weak to endure the pain and die with the dignity of being human. _

"Your life is not your own. Who are you to decide your death?"

_What do you mean by that? _Sora glanced at the Claymore, whose expression was inscrutable and betrayed nothing. Her body was translucent, as if her time was up and she was fading away. She did begin to disappear, and her voice was soon all that Sora heard.

"**Live.** That's all I ask of you, as your former self, as what little is left of your… humanity."

xXx

Sora's eyes snapped open. Her body still pulsated with white-hot pain, but determination now flared to life in her. Ignoring the pain, Sora dragged herself down the corridor, following the stranger's instructions to the letter. As she moved, she focused her Yoki to two areas: her wings and legs. The wings took priority, for she'd have to survive the fall. Her head ached fiercely from her conscious control of the Yoki flow, but Sora dismissed it.

_My only chance to escape…_

Her only chance to live as a free being.

The corridor seemed to last forever, but Sora soon saw the blurred halo that announced light. Almost gleefully, she crawled towards it, watching the rectangular space of white expand as she approached it. Eventually, Sora reached the window, climbing onto the window ledge and sitting on it. The sun shone high in the sky, blinding her. She'd been far too adjusted to the darkness. Its rays were warm on her skin as she closed her eyes, waiting patiently for them to adapt to the sudden glare. It seemed to take forever. She frowned when she heard footsteps behind her, and turned.

"Sora!" It was Elvira, and she sounded furious.

Sora laughed, surprised to find that her larynx had somewhat regenerated. "There's a whole new world out there, you know. You won't keep me from it," she said softly.

"I won't let you get away," her friend-turned-nemesis hissed. The six whips she wielded shot forward like snakes, but Sora was quicker. In one fluid movement, she flipped backwards and out of her prison. As she did so, her wings spread open, catching a wind shear and soaring high into the sky. The clouds swiftly masked her flight, ruining any chance Elvira had of following Sora. The time she'd spent regenerating her wings paid off: they sustained her for a few hours before faltering under the strain. Sora crash-landed into a forest, thousands of miles away from her prison, and there she stayed for the night. Her body still throbbed, and her stomach rumbled sadly, but Sora was comforted by one single thought:

_I'm free._


	4. Encounter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Claymore! I own Sora. Crimson Foxhound owns Gray.

_You must've had a broken heart, _

_to love me the way you do._

_Must've been so torn apart, _

_I can see it when I look at you._

_All the meaning that is in your eyes, _

_the love you give will never die._

_And I knew right from the start, _

_you must've had a broken heart._

-----You Must Have Had a Broken Heart, Westlife

**Epilogue: Encounter**

As the first rays of dawn filtered into the dense forest canopy, a sleek creature passed through the woods stealthily. A flash of crimson was all that most lesser animals noticed. Awakened Beings, after all, could be said to be at the top of the food chain, and this one was no exception.

Sora flitted up a tree, sitting atop a particularly massive branch. This oak tree must be at least a hundred, she thought. From this vantage point, she could see far into the distance, in any direction she pleased.

She was of a size that was gigantic to a human, yet miniscule to a typical Awakened Being. She retained the body of a mature human female, though her skin was pale, and almost white. Her hair – a strange indigo – hung in a ponytail-like structure, and contrasted vastly with her white complexion. Flaps of violet skin hung from her arms and curved in an umbrella shape on her waist, giving an impression of her wearing a wide-sleeved dress. Springing from her shoulder blades were a pair of butterfly-shaped wings, ragged at the edges and sporting a complex pattern of veins, bone and muscle woven tightly together. The entire wing span was about three-quarters of her slender body, and shimmered with a mysterious violet hue, as if it were Yoki in visual form. Her body didn't have any odd protrusions, save for four arms sprouting from her back. These arms were, however, were translucent for some reason, and only a faint outline could be easily seen. Sora's hands and feet were clawed, with razor sharp blades.

Two wondrous weeks of freedom had passed uneventfully, and she had begun to lock the horrible memories away in a box labelled "TRAUMA" in her mind. Nonetheless, one could never be too cautious. Sora's sharp eyesight – surpassing even that of an eagle's – scanned her surroundings alertly. Despite being at least ten feet above the ground, she could see the squirrels finding food for their young, and identify the birds soaring in the sky. If she focused, she could observe an army of leaf-cutter ants maintaining their nest. It was virtually impossible to creep up on her while in her line of sight.

For hundreds and hundreds of miles, where the forest peeled away into a desolate wilderness, Sora found no signs of sentient life. Her golden eyes sparkled as she considered barging into a town and having a feast. Deciding that it would draw too much attention, she chose instead to traverse the wilderness. Keep moving, that was her motto – as long as she didn't stay put in one place for too long, the chances of being discovered were significantly lower. A passing caravan would do nicely for a meal, though. Her last meal was four days ago, and she'd snagged a dress while she was at it.

She leapt down the tree, resumed a human form and dressed. Then she began trekking towards the wilderness.

And hesitated when a man emerged a fair distance to her left, carrying – no, _cradling _– a sword of sorts.

He was too far away for her to ascertain if he was a Claymore, or an Awakened, but he certainly had a Yoki flow. She could sense the faintest trace of it from where she stood. Everything about his posture and demeanor screamed depression. If he was a Claymore, flight would be a better option. But would a warrior of the organization be so miserable? Her curiosity perked, she moved closer, scrutinizing the haggard man. Nothing about his figure suggested hostility, and when she saw his eyes – a deep, pale blue - she couldn't look away. Here was a man who had endured hardships of his own, and had emerged broken and alone.

_Your life is not your own..._

The Awakened Being switched tactics and headed towards him, melting swiftly into the forest.

**A/N:** Continued in our collaboration, Awakened Redemption II: Pride against Fidelity.


End file.
